Delusion Illusion Dissolution
by runwitskizzers
Summary: New chapter. And then it all made sense. Twoshot. I swear. [SakuXSasu][second chapter: sasukecentric] Firsttimer. R&R if you will.
1. Chapter 1

She imagined a razor in her hand. Cold. Sharp. Vengeful.

_Familiar?_

And pretending, she ran it across the vein in her left wrist. Just lightly. Never pushing hard enough to break the skin. But ran it over and over and over again. Constantly.

_Her emotion. His rejection._

Slowly, the first layer tore under the repetitious movement. Then the second. Still she played. It was just a game. Let's play pretend. Nothing real. Nothing was ever real. Not even the crimson rivets running down her arm. No, those were imagined. Something in the back of her mind. An image reminiscent of a scene in some movie. She almost had it. Now she fell back against her pillows in mock dizziness. Her head painfully banging against the wall. Her fake blood matched the red of her sheets. She was going to black out any minute. From sheer will, not because of the unreal cut across the vein she couldn't really find. She played with ideas in her head while her vision blurred, would anyone miss me if this was real? Would I regret it if it was actually happening? She decided that no was the answer to both accounts.

_Thank you._

She realized that this game she was playing wouldn't happen if she could avoid feeling anything. She decided to start a new game. One where she pretended to be happy, instead of pretending to be sad. Because she never really felt anything. She had once, but that turned out to be a mistake. And she wasn't one to repeat mistakes.

_Thank you._

So today was the beginning.

She wouldn't cry anymore.

_Che. Annoying._

She tried to stand up… but she couldn't. This was more real than she had thought. And now, it was all over. No more games, no more make believe, no more reality. She lived.

He dreamt.

* * *

Random. I wrote the majority of this like 4 years ago before having ever seen Naruto. I recently came across it again and was a little weirded out by how it suited Sakura. I'm not usually one for angsty stuff, so this isn't necessarily angsty. It could all just be a dream, or whatev. It is definitely up for interpretation. Read. Review. Tell me that I should probably never write again. Everything's welcome. (However, constructive criticism / blatant praising would be nice) 


	2. Chapter 2

He slammed his forehead against the wall in desperation. Trying to get the thoughts, the images out of his mind.

He felt the scratches and then: warm liquid on his own arms, like he was inside her.

_Familiar?_

He was crazy. She was crazy. Emotionally stunted, each for their own reasons. His were obvious.

Murder. Pain. Betrayal. Revenge.

_Hatred._

Or the lack thereof.

Hers were slightly more complicated. Not that he truly understood. He felt (as much as a self-proclaimed Avenger can feel) that it had something to do with him. His leaving. His abandonment. This could, of course, have been his own narcissistic tendency mixing with an errant form of concern in his breaking mind.

The sweat fell from his face in droplets the size of quarters. Or so he thought. His eyes, his mighty, sought-after eyes, could be playing tricks on him. It would be typical. Betrayed by his own body. It was coming soon enough.

_-kun._

He wished the pain would make her stop talking. She never stopped. Even now, the ceaseless chatter rings in his ears constantly.

_Her emotion. His rejection._

There. That. That was not his thought, nor his brother's. That was the third voice that joined the every-present contention in his mind. Albeit, belatedly.

This time, his head is flung backwards against the headboard in hopes of clearing out everything. He needs to be clean. Vacant, save for one objective.

His hands feel for the razor that isn't there. If just for one quick flick, to ease the noise coming from inside. A distraction. For once, a welcome distraction. Or was it to feel his blood commingling with hers?

_Che. Annoying._

His fingers find nothing on the bed. No sharpness, no coldness. Just damp sheets and confusion. Already he's forgotten what he was searching for moments earlier. He knows she'll whisper it to him soon.

_I love you._

He falls gracelessly on to his pillows and closes his fickle eyes. One arm is covering his face, as if reinforcing a barrier against the outside. He's inside, now. Dead to all, except the three voices inside him. Each equally persistent, slowly grinding away at his reality.

_Hate me._

_Gain power._

_Come home._

The third affects his emotional eight-year-old self the most. This child locked deep inside of his so-called rational mind. His fists clench the sheets. The other two voices begin to gain merit.

It really is too bad; the same little boy who knows he should go home, well, he can't help but listen to his older brother.

* * *

I know, I'm a big, fat stinkin' liar. I said this would be a one-shot, and well… I couldn't help it. Someone suggested I try to further it, and I thought to myself, hm, what would Sasu-chan have to say about all this. I don't know that I'm so happy with the last part of this, but sasuke's a bitch to write. And so, fo'real. This is the end. 


End file.
